


strike a pose

by ElasticElla



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Future, F/M, Panties
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-02-15
Updated: 2015-02-15
Packaged: 2018-03-13 01:59:15
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,255
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3363533
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ElasticElla/pseuds/ElasticElla
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Scott needs money at college, Isaac has a solution, and Lydia <i>really</i> likes it.</p>
            </blockquote>





	strike a pose

**Author's Note:**

  * For [HolyGuacomole](https://archiveofourown.org/users/HolyGuacomole/gifts).



> and again, thanks to [queerkira](http://queerkira.tumblr.com/) for being such a fab beta <3
> 
> For the rest of the pack's college hcs, check out [this tumblr post](http://elasticellaarchive.tumblr.com/post/113025179232/the-college-hcs-for-the-rest-of-the-pack-in-strike).

Scott blames- and by blames, he means thanks- Isaac for his current predicament. Without Isaac’s reference, he wouldn’t have modeled nor had the confidence to do Kira’s project, and he definitely wouldn’t be getting photographed in lacey pale pink panties with Lydia watching, lips curved with approval. The flashing lights keep him from looking to her too often, but he doesn’t need to - the sweet smell of her arousal teasing him enough without a visual. 

Five months ago, they all started college, the majority of them ending up on the East Coast. Scott was at Tufts for their small animal veterinary, and Lydia pretty close at MIT studying physics and biology and quantum mechanics. Two months into college, Scott was complaining about money to Isaac. All the part time jobs with flexible hours were already scooped up, and there was no way he was stressing his mom’s finances further just for pocket money. A few weeks later, Isaac had a solution: modeling. 

Scott had laughed, but Isaac told him how much he made the previous week. Scott decides to ignore the inner voice that says he doesn’t look like _Isaac_ and tries it. He’s apparently good enough at it, and two weeks later, three hundred dollars richer, he has a new job. 

Pocket money means by early December he already has everyone’s holiday presents picked out and ordered. It also means he splurges on lunches with Lydia, meeting in Cambridge to eat rather than their dining halls. They fall into dating without effort. She takes him to theoretical lectures, and often Scott can only get halfway through them before the concepts are going over his head. Lydia explains after if she understood, or will by their next lunch, having further researched the topic. Often she grumbles at those lunches about pretentious professors wanting to sound smart rather than interact with their audience. Scott never says it then, but if Lydia weren’t so set on researching the supernatural, she’d make a hell of a lecturer. Scott drags Lydia out of school, day trips to Cape Cod, sometimes with their friends and sometimes just the two of them. He’s pretty sure she’d never leave campus if she had gone to UChicago. 

The sex had started during one of their day trips. Isaac and Stiles were with them, but the two had gone racing on a pair of borrowed jet skis. Lydia frowned, tossing her two magazines aside, and propped up her sunglasses. 

“What’s up?” Scott asks, a welcome diversion from the heavy text on pack negotiations. 

Lydia gives him a considering look, and then says, “I want an orgasm.” 

Scott’s eyebrows might jump, but that’s all and it’s much better than the sudden coughing when Erica had nonchalantly informed him, while touring RISD’s museum, of all the threesomes she was having with Boyd and Kira.

“I can leave?” Lydia’s scent doesn’t smell like she wants him to though, but perhaps he’s become too reliant on smell. 

“If you want to,” Lydia says, twirling a curl, “or you could facilitate.” 

Twenty minutes later, Lydia’s thighs are locked around his head, and Scott’s vaguely keeping an ear out for anyone that may see. He licks her, wide and sweeping, short and quick, until she squirts on his tongue. Scott knows it won’t change their friendship, hopes it didn’t change their relationship too quick, and hopes Lydia will want more help with orgasms in the future.

She does.

She calls him ridiculous when he admits that he thought she might not. She deepthroats him after that, two fingers pressed up against his prostate, and smells victorious when he comes. Lydia swallows primly, says she doesn’t do that for just anyone, and that’s that. 

Kira is doing a photography project on femininity for one of her classes, and she ropes in all of them to help. Lydia is completely decked out- nails, hair, dress, make-up, and heels- and Scott isn’t allowed near her before her shoot. Scott gets a cute indigo dress, and is photographed by the water. It’s a gorgeous shot, and with Kira’s approval, it ends up in Scott’s modeling folder. 

The photo sits there until February, when his agency gets a new client that wants men in lingerie. Scott agrees immediately when he finds out he’ll get five times his usual fee, and Lydia asks if she can tag along. 

Bringing them to this overheated studio, cameras clicking, and Lydia just out of the corner of his eye. She smells like right before they have sex, and Scott breathes slow, controlling himself. His eyes don’t flash, his claws don’t lengthen, and he’s pretty pleased for a moment. And then he realizes the cameras stopped, and he‘s worried that his eyes are red, that his control somehow deteriorated. But Lydia smells amused not worried, and the photographer’s voice interrupts that train of thought. 

“Don’t worry it happens. You have fifteen, and then we’ll shoot the navy silk ones.” 

Lydia is at his side, wrapping a robe around him and dragging him off to the little changing room before he can ask what’s going on. Lydia locks the door, her scent heavier, going straight to Scott’s groin, and oh. He’s not sure how he missed it before, but his cock is pushed out, tenting the panties, the lace band digging into his sides. Lydia sits on the small couch, dragging his hips before her, fingers playing and tugging on the lace. 

“Scott, you look so gorgeous like this. Like a present for me.” 

Scott is about to make a joke about unwrapping presents, but Lydia mouths over his cock and he moans at the sensation. The harder he gets, the tighter the lace does, and Lydia noses the head of his cock out, giving it a quick suck. Her thumbs play with the nerve right under his head, and she sits back a bit, admiring him. 

“Perfect.”

If Scott whines at that, it’s only because he’s used to such declarations being followed by hours of merciless teasing and edging. Lydia licks up against his shaft, thumbs sliding down to play with his balls. 

“Lucky for you,” she murmurs, trailing wet kisses along his shaft, “We’re on a schedule.” 

“ _Lydia_.”

“A tight one too,” she says right before pushing his panties lower, and sucking down his cock. Scott fights to keep his eyes open, gaze caught between the dark red of Lydia’s lipstick and the lace’s light pink. One of her fingers slips up and behind him, pressing against his hole through the panties. Scott doesn’t hold much back, orgasming quickly, hands fisted at his sides. He wants to grab Lydia’s hair, but knows how well that would go over without asking. Lydia swallows and licks him clean, pulling off the beyond damp panties. She grabs the fallen robe from the floor, and Scott isn’t sure when that happened, handing him it with the navy panties. 

Lydia stands up, stretching and smelling content, much like whenever she shows affection in public or in front of the pack. 

“That was amazing,” he says belatedly.

Lydia smirks, touching up her lipstick. “Just wait till we get home. I’m going to fuck you until you howl.”

She leaves with a wink, and it takes Scott another minute before he’s ready for the shoot’s second half. Thinking about Lydia’s collection of dildos is not helping, and he recites every bone a cat has in alphabetical order. If he still finishes the photoshoot breathing through his mouth to minimize scent, well, that’s just a preventative measure.


End file.
